


Actual Pack Mom Derek Hale

by becauseimwolfit (DeadGodBless)



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Derek Hale the Soccer Mom, I'm still mourning the Camaro if we're being honest, It started as making fun of the Toyota, M/M, and then it became pack feels, and then suddenly smut, but this helps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-15 23:45:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadGodBless/pseuds/becauseimwolfit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first thing Stiles thinks when the sleek black minivan almost runs he and Scott over in the school parking lot is that Victoria Argent has come back from the dead and is still holding a grudge against Scott.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Actual Pack Mom Derek Hale

**Author's Note:**

> Pack Wagon and half the other references/jokes in here came from Jimmy. You can find him at http://www.bilith.tumblr.com

Derek glares at the mini-van, arms crossed and stance tense. Isaac's hand is an annoying weight on his shoulder. "Come on, you should get it." Derek turns his head slowly, glare transferring from the vehicle to Isaac. Isaac removes the offending hand, instead holding it up with the other in what he hopes is a pacifying gesture. "I just mean, think of how useful it will be. We can fit the whole pack in it and all of our gear. Scott can finally stop complaining about getting crammed in the backseat."

Derek's eyebrows go up, almost comically. "Scott?" Isaac can't help the wicked idea bouncing around in his brain. He shouldn't. He knows he shouldn't. This is his alpha and he should respect him. 

He can't stop himself. "Yeah Derek. Scott's a growing boy. Think how happy he'll be to have the legroom. He'll love it." It's not necessarily a lie. Scott  _will_  be pleased to not have to tuck his knees in and sit in the cramped back seat with Stiles who can't seem to stop moving around. “Maybe he’ll even ride around with us more.”

Derek grunts and there's a brief moment where Isaac thinks he's seen through his scheme but no; he buys the van.

\---

The first thing Stiles thinks when the sleek black minivan almost runs he and Scott over in the school parking lot is that Victoria Argent has come back from the dead and is still holding a grudge against Scott. If asked about his reaction later, he’ll insist that he let out a manly yell and did not, in fact, fall flat on his ass. Scott will snicker and call it a girl scream and yes, he flailed and landed with a soft thud. But damn it all Stiles is justified, all that metal speeding towards him before turning smoothly to stop before them.

They watch, stunned, as the side door opens itself, revealing a spotless interior and making Scott wrinkle his nose at the smell of new car. “Get in.” Derek commands from the front seat, shades glinting as he turns back to face forward.

Stiles can’t help himself. This is better than anything he could ever have dreamed. Giddy laughter fills the air, his body shaking with the force of it. “You’ve gotta be kidding me oh God!”

Hearing the growl from the front seat, Scott swallows his laughter and tries his best to look completely serious, if not appreciative. “You got a new car?” Derek grunts his affirmation drums his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. “It’s nice. Very…roomy?” Another grunt, this  one clearly pleased; as though Scott had passed some kind of test.

“Of course it’s roomy it’s a fucking mini-van!” Stiles crows, wiping at his eyes as his laughter doubles. Scott nudges him with his foot, trying to get him to shut up.

Derek pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just get in.”

“I can’t. Don’t want to leave my bike behind, y’know?” Scott points to the green dirt bike, thanking whatever entities might be listening that it would be saving him from what would no doubt have been the most awkward ride in the history of Beacon Hills.

Derek’s out of the van and stalking towards the bike before Scott can even protest, and for a second he thinks the alpha is going to destroy it. Instead he picks it up as though it weighs nothing and carries it to the trunk, pulling it open with his free hand and pressing a button on the little panel inside. The backmost seats shift and fold, tucking themselves into the interior and leaving in their wake more than enough room for Derek to lay the bike inside. “Stow and go.” He announces, somewhat proud as he pushes another button and the trunk closes itself.

It’s a miracle really that Stiles doesn’t suffocate on his own laughter as Derek guides Scott to the front passenger seat, completely oblivious to the miserable look on the boy’s face. “Get in Stiles.” The alpha commands as he crosses in front of the van to get to his seat; dutifully buckling his seat belt and glaring at Scott to do the same.

“I’ll pass.” Stiles manages to sigh out. “Unless you can fit my Jeep in that thing too?” Laughter threatens to bubble out again but Stiles takes deep breaths to stave it off.

Derek frowns, eyebrows knitting together, until Isaac shoves around Stiles and into the mini-van without any hesitation. The smirk on his face as he pushes the button to close the side door is enough to tell Stiles this was all his doing, and that nearly sets him off again. Instead he gives a small wave to a red-faced Scott as Derek pulls away.

\----

Scott’s phone rings in the middle of lunch a week later. He glances at the caller id and answers with a sigh. “What’s up, Derek?”

“Grab Isaac and Stiles after school and meet me in the parking lot.” Derek commands firmly before hanging up.  Scott sighs heavily again before relaying the message to a curious Stiles.

“What, does he need help with a bake sale?” Stiles snickers when the day has ended and they’re making their way through the crowded halls.

“I’d watch out,” Isaac drawls from behind him, a lanky arm draping over his shoulder. “Pack Mom is very sensitive about his car.”

Stiles chokes on air and turns to look at the smirking werewolf.  “Isaac you’re a wolf after my own heart!” He whispers, grinning.

 The van is waiting for them at the curb and Stiles is still grinning even as he reaches for the handle of the side door. Just as he’s about to pull it open, the mini-van jerks forward and then breaks sharply. The boy’s grin melts into a scowl as he goes for the handle again, only to have the van reverse this time. He throws his hands up in the air. “Derek what the hell?!”

The door slides open of its own accord and Derek leans back to smirk at him. “You’ll break the mechanism.”

\----

“Hey look, there’s Lydia and Allison.” Isaac says, pointing out the window at the two girls sitting at a table on the outside patio of a coffee shop.

“Derek stop here.” Scott tells him.

“No.” Derek doesn’t even turn to look at the boy, keeping his eyes on the road.

Scott glares. “I want out here.” He demands.

“I’m not stopping, Scott.” Derek says, exasperated.

Scott growls and yanks the handle on his door, seatbelt clicking as he frees himself of it. He pushes at the door to open in, glaring when it doesn’t budge. He presses the unlock button on the door and tries again. Still nothing.

Derek’s glad he got a car with child-safe locks.

\----

It’s the week of the full moon and Isaac can’t help it that’s he’s a little extra irritable. If anyone’s to blame it’s Stiles for instigating. The human should know better than to taunt him so close to the full moon.

“Maybe it’s time for you to go sit in the corner with your scarf collection.” Stiles taunts from the way-back seat.

“Only after I’ve used them to hang you!” Isaac can’t help shooting back.

“Boys.” Derek growls in warning, but they ignore him. Scott shifts uncomfortably in the front seat.

“That’ll make two ways I’m hung better than you.” Stiles smirks.

“Too bad no one’s willing to stoop low enough to sleep with you to find out.” Isaac sneers.

“I swear to God you little shits I will turn this van around and scruff you both into next week!” Derek’s voice booms and the van falls silent for a moment before the three younger boys are laughing until they cry.

\----

Derek’s waiting in the parking lot when they get done with cross country practice. He’s sitting in the open trunk, a small smile tugging at his lips as they get close. “How did it go?”

“Exhausting.” Stiles huffs, all but collapsing against the mini-van. “Isaac smacked my water out of my hands.”

Derek shoots Isaac what the teens have come to refer to as the “Pack Mom Face” which somehow screams “I don’t hate you, but I’m very disappointed in your actions” , hopping down out of the trunk  and opening one of the storage compartments. Inside is a cooler. He pulls out a Gatorade and passes it to Stiles. “Don’t get dehydrated.”

“You…sports drinks?” Stiles asks before gulping down the Gatorade as quickly as he can. He ends up splashing it all down the front of his shirt. Derek sighs and opens the other compartment, pulling out a clean shirt and passing it to Stiles before grabbing him another Gatorade. Stiles looks at the drink and the shirt and lets out a resigned sigh. “Yeah okay, I guess the Pack Wagon isn’t so bad after all.”

Derek’s smile is small, but it’s there.  “I’ve got granola bars and almonds too.”

\----

“What the hell is the Pack Wagon?” Lydia demands, suddenly behind Stiles, arms crossed over her chest.

“Well uh…um…” He stumbles over his words, so Scott jumps in.

“Derek’s mini-van.”

She blinks at them for a moment. “Derek has a mini-van?” They nod for a moment and she snorts. “How the mighty fall. I’ve got to see this.”

She’s waiting with them when Derek pulls up to pick them up.  Stiles taps his foot impatiently as the side door opens. Derek’s turned in his seat, looking at Lydia as though sizing her up. The boys expect him to pitch a fit and tell her to buzz off. Instead he turns to face the front, waiting a couple beats before saying. “There’s plenty of room in the back.”

\----

Derek adds a girl sticker to the family on the back windshield after Lydia shoots a Kelpie and saves Isaac.  He doesn’t outright announce it, but the sticker is enough to make it clear he considers her just as much a part of his pack as he does the boys.

\----

 Derek’s not even sure where Allison came from. Scott didn’t mention her when he called for a ride, but there she is standing among the members of his pack. Derek sets his jaw as he opens the side door. Stiles scrambles in and offers Lydia a hand, Isaac following behind as Scott takes his place up front. Allison is about to climb in herself but Derek reaches up to press the button on the roof of the interior. He holds eye contact and glares at her for the full 20 seconds it takes for the door to shut.

Allison stares, an equal mixture of stunned and irritated, as he pulls away from the curb.

\----

Lydia’s crying as she sits in the open trunk, blood dripping from her leg. There are scratch marks down the length of it from her knee to just above her ankle, not deep enough to do permanent damage but certainly deep enough to hurt. Derek lowers himself onto his haunches in front of her and touches her ankle gingerly. “Scott, get me the first aid kit under the passenger seat and the wet wipes from the pouch on the back of the front seat.” His voice is calm but firm.

Scott scrambles to comply as Stiles and Isaac watch on anxiously. Lydia’s fingers dig into the hem of her skirt, her sobbing ragged and frightened. Derek takes a wipe from the retrieved pack and gently cleans the blood away from the wound. He goes over the scratches again with an alcohol wipe afterwards, pausing and flicking his eyes up to look at the weeping girl for a moment when she hisses in pain. He speaks again, voice soft and soothing. “You have to be more careful.” She glares at him through her tears and he brushes it off. “You’re not helpless, but you’re still human. You break and don’t heal the way we do. I don’t want you getting hurt like this again.”

They’re all silent after that, as Derek seals the scratches as best he can with the first aid kit and drives Lydia to the ER for stitches. He even lets her sit up front.

\----

Derek’s arm shoots out and hits Scott’s chest as he slams on the breaks, effectively keeping the boy from going through the windshield. His growl is feral as he nearly tears his seatbelt in his rush to get it off, his door slammed open. Ennis almost looks afraid, standing in the middle of the road like a deer in headlights. Derek slashes him across the chest, once, twice, and then throws him toward the pavement, fist slamming into the alpha’s back.

Ennis is up almost as quickly as he went down, lunging for Derek and only stopping when an arrow hits him in the back. Another hits his shoulder, and he takes a final one to his thigh before letting out an enraged scream and stumbling into the woods. Derek turns and looks across the road at Allison, standing among the trees with her bow. He stalks his way to the mini-van and straps himself in, clutching the wheel tightly and taking in a deep breath to swallow his pride before rolling down the window on Scott’s side. “Get in.”

\----

The stow and go seats are probably the best investment Derek’s ever made. They make room for a lot more than Scott’s dirt bike. He groans and stretches as Scott’s lips make contact with his chest, pressing open mouthed kisses wherever he can. The Pack Wagon’s carpeting isn’t necessarily the most comfortable, but Scott’s skin is warm on his and it’s enough to make the scratchy fibers entirely worth it.

Scott’s mouth finds his, tongue teasing and coaxing as he grinds their hips together. Derek feels like his heart has moved down to his balls and he groans again, flipping them over and pinning Scott’s hands above his head as he turns their kiss filthy. Scott struggles against his hold, trying to make a grab for the alpha’s hair. Derek smirks against his mouth and grinds down against him, making Scott arch and cry out.

They lose themselves to the feeling of skin against skin. Derek tugs on Scott’s bottom lip with his teeth and feels high from the sounds Scott makes. The younger boy’s hips thrust up almost frantically and Derek decides to take pity on him. He takes both Scott’s wrists in one hand and moves the other to fumble around beside them for a packet of lube. He rips it open with his teeth and coats his hand liberally before reaching down to grip them both together. Scott cries out and bucks into his hand. “Derek please!”

Derek feels dizzy with it, Scott asking, pleading, rather than pushing him away. Finally. He strokes them in time with Scott’s heartbeat, the mingling sound of skin on skin and their thudding hearts pounding like thunder in his ears. He loses track of time, of where they are, of everything except the noises Scott makes and how right this feels. Scott comes first, uttering Derek’s name, voice completely wrecked. That’s enough to make Derek follow, stroking them both through the orgasm until they are too sensitive; until it’s too much. His vision clears and he stares in awe of the sight of Scott spattered in their come; all over his chest and throat, some even splashing up onto his chin.

Derek releases Scott’s wrists and he sprawls, limbs stretched out every which way.  Derek forces himself to get up, crawling to pull the wet wipes from the pouch on the back of the driver’s seat. He crawls his way back over to Scott and starts wiping him down. Scott shudders as the cloth touches his skin. “It’s cold.” He mumbles.

“Sorry.” Derek mumbles, cleaning him up regardless. “Almost done.” He tucks the dirtied wipe into the plastic back he kept in the van for trash.

“I never want to move again.” Scott sighs. “Let’s just lay here.”

Derek frowns for a moment and shoves Scott aside, opening one of the compartments and setting a Gatorade down next to his head. “Drink it.”

“Dude no, I’m tired.” Scott whines, turning away.

Derek picks up the Gatorade and sets it in front of his face again.  “I mean it Scott. Drink it.”

“You’re the worst at pillow talk.” Scott groans.

“And you need to get some energy up for round two.” Derek’s voice is light, teasing, and Scott can’t help but grin at the promise of it.


End file.
